A Special Blend of You and Me
by germankitty aka Dagmar Buse
Summary: Draco finds a bunch of letters in Professor Snape's effects that were written by Lily Evans to her best friend at school, Marlene McKinnon. He passes them on to Harry, who consequently starts his own correspondence with Draco. Harry/Draco, EWE, epistolary. One-shot, COMPLETE!


**Disclaimer:** All characters and settings you recognize belong to JK Rowling; only the setting (and what little plot there is) belongs to me.

 **Author's Notes:** This fic is based on Kikimay's story "Tea and Lost Letters: Lily to Marlene" (posted at ArchiveofourOwn) as part of the 2017 HD_Remix Fest over on LiveJournal. Out of all her stories this one spoke to me the most. I love how Lily's letters tell her story in a one-sided conversation with a friend we know nothing about and still manage to paint a picture of a true, enduring friendship that was tragically cut short.

Many thanks as well as a big shoutout to my beta, the ever-helpful Candamira. You're the best!

 **A Special Blend of You and Me**

 **May 15, 1999**

 _Some Unspecified Supermarket Value Pack of teabags_

"Malfoy –

Thank you for sending me the letters you found in Professor Snape's effects. As you've guessed, they were written by my mother, to her friend Marlene McKinnon who died in the first War.

It … it means a lot to me to have them. You see, my aunt never talked about Mum. Sirius and Professor Lupin were more my Dad's friends, even though they were all together in Gryffindor. And while they eventually became friends with my mother, too, they didn't ever know her the way Professor Snape did.

Did you know that Snape and my mum sort of grew up together? Mum's family used to live in Spinner's End, too, and they met in a park quite a bit before they started at Hogwarts. They tried to remain friends even though they were Sorted into different Houses, but … stuff happened, and they eventually had a falling-out – in their Fifth or Sixth year, I forget which. Anyway, Snape never forgot their friendship and I guess that's why he filch- erm ... collected. Yeah, that's better. So, he _collected_ those letters from Godric's Hollow after my parents were murdered. A lot of other people collected 'souvenirs' from our home right afterwards, too (which is all kinds of creepy and really narks me off, by the way), before the Ministry put the house under a Stasis Charm … and anyway, I don't have a lot of _personal_ mementos from my parents, so this was honestly a nice surprise. Again, thanks.

H. Potter

PS: Those different teas Mum mentions – most of them seem to be wizarding blends. You wouldn't have an idea where I could get them, do you? I'd kind of like to try them."

 **•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•**

 **June 25, 1999**

 _PG Tips Value Pack_

"Malfoy –

Of course I've asked Mrs. Weasley first – do you think I'm an idiot? (Don't answer that!) She actually knew a few of the teas Marlene had shared with my Mum (Ron and Ginny both told me that the one mentioned in the very first letter, 'Blueberry Nights', was what Molly made for them when they had tummy aches as kids), but the Weasleys on the whole never cared about which type of tea they had as long as it was hot, rich and plenty of it. And if you're rolling your eyes now, go jump off a cliff – not everyone likes to have their tea picked in the moonlight by underage virgins, or whatever nonsense method ponces like you are using before the leaves are allowed to touch your heirloom fine china! For normal people, a Brown Betty is just fine, thanks a lot!

Okay, I had to make myself a cuppa right now before I really started ranting at you. And no, I didn't use loose-leaf tea, a pot and a strainer, just a good-quality teabag in a mug. Sod off.

Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that it was a really great idea to suggest asking your Aunt Andromeda. She was really helpful with some of the teas, too – did you know that 'Blueberry Nights' isn't just a fruity infusion for kids, but also a Muggle drink? Teddy absolutely loves it; he must've inherited Remus's sweet tooth. His Gran refuses to let him have much chocolate (and the one time I tried to sneak him some, Hermione nearly bit my head off), so having a naturally sweet tea works as a substitute. For now, at least, I guess.

See you around!

H. Potter"

 **•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•**

 **August 10, 1999**

 _Elma Çay (Turkish Apple tea)_

"Hello, Malfoy!

Holiday greetings from Özdere, Turkey. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny have all chipped in together and given me this trip to the Aegean coast for my birthday. I've never been away from Britain before, and I'm loving every minute! We're staying at a great hotel, there's sunshine every day, the beach is nice and warm, and the food is just wonderful even though Ron's complaining about there not being any proper bacon for breakfast. I don't mind but must admit it's a bit strange that there's no pork anywhere, at all, unlike at home.

What's also strange is that every time you enter a shop people will immediately offer you little glasses of hot, sweet apple tea – even if it's scorching hot outside, and you've never met them before. You don't even have to buy anything! But the tea is really quite tasty once you get used to it, and I'm liking the custom a lot, I think.

Anyway, must go – Hermione insists we should go and tour the ruins of the Temple of Artemis near Efes (Ephesus to the rest of the world). According to her, it's one of the seven Wonders of the Ancient World. Do wizards know about them? Do they have them too, and are they the same as for Muggles? Ron and Ginny don't know (and I don't think they care, either). I could ask Hermione of course, but if I do she'll lecture me for half an hour – so no, thanks! After all, I'm on vacation (my first ever!), not in History class … even if actually seeing the places is much more interesting than old Binns' droning.

Hope you're having a good summer, too.

Harry Potter"

 **•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•**

 **October 31, 1999**

 _Twinings Every Day Blend_

"Hello, Malfoy –

How are you? I'm doing okay now that I'm over that damn cold. Between being dosed with Pepperup every other day and Mrs. Weasley forcing her Incredible Influenza Infusion on me at every turn, I'm finally on the mend and am expected to return to training next week.

As I was stuck inside the house for a few days, I've been looking at the letters you gave me once again. It was really amazing how my mum bonded with her friend over tea, of all things. Because I was bored, I decided to look up the Muggle side of things and found out that one can actually do a full day's outing doing all tea-related things in London!

So I made up a tour. I'd start at the Cutty Sark – that's a real 19th-century tea clipper – in Greenwich, maybe take a boat trip from there down the Thames and visit the Tea and Coffee Museum. Then I'd go on to the Strand where I've found a tea shop and museum that's been in the same place since 1706. It's almost hidden between some very tall buildings and looks rather quaint. Actually, it wouldn't look out of place in Diagon Alley (even if it's not quite as ancient as Ollivander's. Then again, _nothing_ is as old as that shop!).

The thing is, though, none of my friends can or wants to come with me. Ginny's away training in Holyhead, Hermione thinks it's a nice idea in principle, just not really her cup of tea (get it? Hehe!), and Ron heard the word 'museum', called me mental and pretty much ran screaming for the hills. Even when I suggested finishing off the day with Afternoon Tea at the Ritz. Just because the Tea Room there is also a museum …

I think it'd be a fun day, but really don't want to do this by myself.

Oh well. Maybe another time, although it's a pity to waste the lovely weather we're having. And who knows when I'll have a couple of days off work again.

(Unless you'd be interested? I promise to protect you from the big, bad Muggles, too!)

Harry P."

 **•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•**

 **December 22, 1999**

 _Lapsang Souchong_

"Malfoy –

Where the hell did you find a mug inscribed with 'Slytherins do it better'? Really? (And why would you send it to me? Did anyone blab to you that I almost— oh, never mind!) Do _what_ better, anyway?! Can't think of a single thing unless you mean being a prat. _That_ you've always excelled at, even though you're not all that bad company. Don't let it get to your head, but I kind of liked having you along on my London excursions.

I have to tell you though, you really, _really_ don't deserve a present after making me drink that vile concoction the other day. That tea was worse than any of the potions Madam Pomfrey dosed me with at school – and considering that _Snape_ brewed them (probably with the specific intent of making me even more miserable every time I had to visit the Infirmary), that's saying a lot!

If you ask me, Lapsang Souchong isn't tea, it's liquefied tar stirred into dirty dishwater, strained through sweaty socks and laced with old Aberforth Dumbledore's worst homemade booze. Not even Polyjuice Potion with a strand of Umbridge's hair would taste as bad!

 **Blecch!**

Just for that, I'll have you know that I kept all of Molly Weasley's homemade fudge for myself. You, on the other hand, will have to share the hamper I got you at Fortnum and Mason's with your mother. And don't you _dare_ keep the ginger shortbread from Mipsy – that house elf deserves it much more than you!

Merry Christmas, wanker!

Harry."

 **•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•**

 **April 23, 2000**

 _Blueberry Nights_

"Ginny and I broke up.

I thought she was The One, but …

Apparently not.

We just don't have all that much in common. I mean, I love Quidditch, but _playing_ it, not talking every little move and maneuver to death before pouring over stats. Which is what Ginny likes to do. Even Ron isn't that bad, and that's saying something.

At first, it was kind of funny that she tried to manage my life. Rather endearing, in a way – nobody's ever fussed a lot over me before. Only, after a while it stopped being funny and became annoying. I mean, I'm not the most perceptive bloke, but I'm not an idiot, either. I'd complain, she'd get angry, I'd apologize and the whole circle would start all over again.

We could never make it work the way it was meant to be.

I suppose everything just got to be too much, for both of us. Sometimes, she'd just _look_ at me in a way that … and … well.

I … I think in the end, she just gave up. On me, on the future we dreamed of. She gave up on us.

It hurt. A lot.

So we called it quits. No idea who actually said it. Guess it doesn't matter. I just know that now it's over it hurts _less_ somehow.

Strange. Or maybe not? I dunno.

I need a drink.

I wish there was a tea that can mend a broken heart."

 **•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•**

 **April 24, 2000**

 _Green Tea_

"Malf- no. Um ... Draco? Whatever.

My head is killing me. Or maybe it's my stomach; my mind can't quite make itself up yet which feels worse. How many 'Blueberry Nights' did you let me drink last night, anyway?! And why didn't you warn me that the Muggle version is not a tea, but almost pure alcohol?

For that matter, how did you even know about it? I mean, it's a _Muggle_ cocktail. Aren't you supposed to hate everything Muggle? I mean, no offense, but what with the whole Junior Death Eater thing you had going at Hogwarts … just sayin'!

On second thought, never mind. Just go away so I can die in peace. Or hit me with a nice, quick _Avada Kedavra_ ; that _has_ to be better than the way I'm feeling today.

(The last time didn't hurt. I went somewhere that looked like King's Cross Station, only all white, and I had no clothes on. Then Dumbledore was there and showed me this ugly baby-thing that he said I'd had in my head for years. Ew.)

I didn't want to remember that. It almost made me barf.

Are you sure one of those drinks hadn't gone bad? One them did taste rather funny. I think. Didn't I mention that? I'm pretty sure I must have. Was it the fifth? Or maybe the seventh? I can't remember.

I just found a bar tab in my pocket that says one of us has had over a dozen 'Blueberry Nights'. Surely that can't be true. Or can it?

Gah, I really don't want to know.

And now you want me to go drinking with you _again_? Are you crazy, or what? Why should I trust you that some kind of weird tea ceremony will make me feel better? And green tea smells like it's made from moldy hay. Ugh.

(Sorry, had to go barf after all. Made my stomach feel better, but now my throat hurts.)

I think I hate you today. Just a little. Because it's all your fault.

So, green tea at the Japanese Garden in Regent's Park, you said? Oh, very well. If that stuff actually manages to make me feel human again, I may not hate you after all. No promises, though.

Harry.

PS: For the record, I also do not remember kissing you. Or that you were groping my arse. No way. That did NOT happen. Never, ever. Right? Right!"

 **•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•**

 **June 6, 2001**

 _Darjeeling Oolong First Flush_

"Draco –

Just a quick note to let you know that I really enjoyed having tea with you and your mother on your birthday. I know I've made fun of the whole thing before, but after tea yesterday, I'm convinced. There really _is_ some truth about calling First Flush 'the champagne of teas'.

(Not that I'm an expert on champagne or anything, but I'd like to think that I've learned at least a thing or two about tea since I first read my mum's letters. Wouldn't you agree?)

Or maybe it was your mother. Sitting in the Orangerie at the Manor, seeing the table decked with the linens, the silver … your house-elves may have prepared the food (can't really picture your mum in the kitchen with her arms up to the elbows in flour, sorry), but she was so very gracious, so _nice_ without being overwhelming – just like Andromeda, only more so. Yeah, they're sisters, of course they'd have the same manners, but somehow I _feel_ it more with your mother.

Speaking of the food, I loved all of it. The brie-and-cranberry sandwiches, the roast beef on crackers, those little shells stuffed with salmon mousse, the pastries … oh my, the pastries! Ever since I had my first piece of treacle tart at Hogwarts, I thought it couldn't get any better. And as you know, Molly's birthday cakes are always fantastic. But I'm starting to drool just _thinking_ about those chocolate-dipped éclairs! And the macarons … the raspberry tart … the scones and clotted cream …

Now I'm getting hungry.

One of these days, I'd like to have another tea just like that, only on a blanket out in the back of your mother's Rose Garden. Just you and I, on a beautiful summer's day like yesterday when the sun and the sky would reflect in your mother's antique silver tea set. And I'd take off all your clothes, and make you lie on that blanket. Then I'd put all the pastries and creams and jellies on your body and eat and lick them off you from head to toe. I'd have some of that wonderful tea between bites, to clean my palate … and after all that sweetness, I'd need something salty, and maybe a bit bitter; for dessert. And I know exactly where I can find that special treat, Draco – right between your legs, coming from your gorgeous body right into my mouth. I'd swallow all of it, every last drop, and then I'd—

Damn, my portkey is about to go off! Duty calls, sorry. Please give my regards to your mother; she's the best hostess ever. (DON'T tell Molly Weasley I said that!)

To be continued when I come back!

Harry."

 **•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•**

 **November 1, 2015**

 _Draco's Special Blend_

"Something smells good."

Harry's voice was still husky with sleep as he entered the kitchen. Draco looked up from arranging fresh crumpets onto a platter and smiled at his rather rumpled husband.

"I've made us a pot of tea," he said. "Have a nice nap?"

"Mm-hm," Harry murmured, ambling closer for a kiss. "Thanks for letting me sleep."

"After last week, you needed the rest." Draco shrugged, tamping down on his need to berate Harry for all but living at the office for the last few days. Not only that he had missed having Harry around, it was more what these marathon sessions were doing to him. Almost no sleep for days, food grabbed on the go – if at all – and hours on end high on adrenaline. A veritable health hazard, and sheer murder on family. But the criminals and dark wizards the Aurors dealt with on a daily basis had little to no consideration for the lives they disrupted – whether it was their victims', or those of the wizards and witches trying to catch them. "Are you done with the case?"

"Yeah. Well, except for the paperwork of course." Harry grimaced. The Auror Department had been gathering evidence for months; planning to arrest a full coven of Dark wizards under the new moon without alarming the Muggles had taken the better part of a week. Finally, Harry had led the raid on their lair in the coastal cliffs of Exmoor in the early hours of the morning, only a few hours before dawn. He'd made sure the criminals were locked into holding cells, then come home and inevitably crashed into bed.

Draco had known it would happen and planned accordingly. It was late Saturday afternoon now, which meant the Aurors, and Harry as the Deputy Head, would take Sunday off and start processing the prisoners on Monday morning, just within the two-day mandatory period between arrest and prosecution.

Which meant he had maybe thirty-six hours to take Harry's mind off the job and redirect it onto him, where it belonged.

"Why don't you go ahead and sit by the fire," he instructed Harry with a small smile. "The tea needs to steep another two minutes, and I'll join you then."

"Great." Harry stole another kiss and left the kitchen, wandering slowly upstairs to what had once been the formal dining room at Grimmauld Place.

When he and Draco moved into the old Black house after getting married, they'd decided to rearrange and repurpose a number of rooms to their needs. For example, the library had been expanded to make room for two desks – one for Draco to write up his potions experiments, and the other for Harry's case notes and his studies into wizarding law. The dining room had become their living space, with several Chesterfield sofas upholstered in sage-green velvet arranged around rosewood tables and a reading nook in the front bay window with an antique card table set between two high-backed armchairs covered in matching fabric.

Every antique piece of furniture had come from Malfoy Manor as gifts from Narcissa; the seating and lamps they'd bought together after much debate and several exhausting shopping trips. But the result was worth every argument and every Galleon or Pound spent – wherever he looked, Harry found a pleasing mix of old and new, of wizarding tradition and Muggle comfort – just like he and Draco.

Harry's mellow mood deepened as he saw that Draco had pushed a couple of reclining chairs in front of the fireplace, with a low chest inlaid with brass and ebony stood between them. On the top he'd placed two teacups made of some nearly translucent stoneware, inside a number of already-lit tea lights that were arranged into a heart shape.

 _Draco, my closet romantic!_

Harry felt as if his heart would melt. He knew that a sappy smile was spreading across his face and he didn't care one whit that Draco might notice when he came in, levitating a tray stacked with hot crumpets, bowls of fresh butter and lemon curd, plus a full teapot, creamer and sugar bowl.

He curiously sniffed the air. "Mm, is that Earl Grey?" Harry wasn't particularly fond of most aromatized teas, but he knew Draco liked to drink the blend on dark winter afternoons like today. For his sake, he wouldn't complain.

"Not quite," Draco murmured as he set the tray down and poured the fragrant brew into the waiting cups. "I've been … experimenting."

"Oh?" Harry picked up one of the cups and inhaled the gentle steam wafting towards his nose. He'd been right – the faint bergamot aroma was rather unmistakable, but there definitely was something more.

Draco's mouth quirked into a tiny, somewhat embarrassed smile. "I know you don't really like Earl Grey, but it's one of my favourites, so … I thought I'd see whether I couldn't come up with a mixture of things we both like."

"Applied your potions expertise to afternoon tea, have you?"

"Nothing as intricate as that," Draco demurred. "I've simply mixed four parts of Earl Grey with two parts each of Twinings Vanilla tea and the orange-flavoured Ceylon blend we brought back from Florida."

Harry was no expert in either potions or Herbology by any means, but even he knew the flavours were complementary. "Now I'm intrigued. Do we take it with sugar, or plain?"

"A bit of sweetness goes well with the mixture, I think."

"Sweet it is, then." Harry dropped a lump of muscovado sugar into his cup, stirred and lifted it to drink, only to be stopped by a gesture from his husband.

"There's one ingredient missing yet," Draco said softly. "I've found it adds just the right final touch." A quick wave of his wand set a crystal carafe half-filled with a clear, slightly viscous liquid floating towards them from the bar cart in the corner. He pulled the silver stopper and splashed maybe a spoonful into each cup.

Harry gave another stir. The sweet scent of Grand Marnier orange liqueur filled the air and blended harmoniously with the whole bouquet emanating from the steaming amber-gold tea.

"Smells good," he commented and took a careful sip. Then he moaned with pleasure. The tea was of excellent quality, as usual; the dried orange peel took away some of the tang coming from the bergamot flavouring, but the vanilla and sugar added a creaminess to the taste that was enhanced even more by the mild sting of alcohol. As soon as he swallowed, Harry felt a gentle rush of warmth spread through his whole body.

"That … that's _perfect_!"

Draco's slightly anxious expression changed first to relief, then to pure delight. He drank of his own tea. "Thank you," he murmured, smiling with both lips and eyes. "I'm glad you like it."

"Oh, I don't," Harry said with a casual wave, hiding his face behind his cup as he took another swallow, experiencing the same sweep of warmth into every finger and toe. Then he looked up to meet the shocked, wide-open grey eyes. "I _love_ it, you idiot," he whispered. "Just as I love _you_ , and the fact that you've concocted this for us!"

Draco glared half-heartedly at Harry. "And that's why you decided you could nearly give me a heart attack? Not funny, Potter."

"Sorry," Harry said instantly, reaching over to grasp Draco's hand and lift it to his lips. He pressed a kiss onto the back first, then turned the slender fingers over and briefly caressed the smooth palm. "I was just trying to tease you. Forgive me?"

"Hmph." Draco pouted but allowed himself to be jollied back to good humour as Harry buttered a crumpet and spread a generous dollop of lemon curd on top. He was only feigning reluctance when Harry then proceeded to feed him the rich snack bite by dainty bite.

"You could make a fortune by selling this blend to Fortescue's or Madam Puddifoot," Harry mused as they refilled their cups, the alcohol they added providing some rather nice extra glow. "Well, minus the liqueur obviously, seeing as the main customer base for both is underage students, but if you could duplicate the taste with something non-alcoholic …"

"Some orange blossom honey might work," Draco said, ever the potioneer. "But … no."

"No? Since when do you turn down a chance to make money?" Harry wondered. It wasn't a malicious remark, just an honest observation. Ever since he'd agreed to let Draco manage his inheritance as well, the Potter fortune had increased from merely comfortable to quite substantial. If Draco weren't so passionate about potions, he could have become a veritable financial tycoon.

"Because …" Draco hesitated for a few seconds, then plunged on. "Because I made the blend for _you_. Not for profit."

A different warmth, one that had nothing to do with the merrily-blazing fire, the hot tea or even the really rather moderate amount of liqueur he'd drunk with it, settled over Harry.

"Then don't," he said warmly. "I just meant to compliment you."

"I realise that, but—"

"No buts. You said you made this blend for me; I think that's not quite true." He held out his hand and waited until Draco leaned forward and laid his own on top of it, cradling the slender fingers between his shorter, blunter ones. "Maybe it wasn't your intention, but I believe you really created this blend for _us_. You knew I don't care much for flavoured teas, but managed to change just enough, to add and enhance so that I will enjoy it after all."

Draco had to swallow the small lump that had lodged in his throat. Harry wasn't often introspective or even eloquent, but when he was …

"Have you been talking to Hermione again?" Draco asked, trying to hide behind his customary snark. "Because that might almost be considered a metaphor for our relationship." Unfortunately, snark was no match for the emotions Harry's words had evoked; his voice had taken on a husky tone he'd thought he'd reserved solely for their bedroom.

Harry – the prat! – was just giving him a smile full of understanding and love. "So what if it is? We may not like every aspect of who we were or what made us, even now, but we've both learned to adapt. Just look at us – our backgrounds, our different tastes in tea and other things, your antiques and my Muggle conveniences – they blend in almost every way, and where they don't, we compromise and _make_ it work. In my mind, we come out the better most of the time, too. Not only our lives, _we_ are better together. And the tea is just an example for all of it. A perfect blend."

Harry slumped back into his chair but kept holding Draco's hand. His eyes, their green brilliance no longer hidden behind ugly glasses but framed by elegant silver wire, continued to hold Draco's.

"Don't you think so, too?"

Draco sighed.

"Hardly perfect. But … maybe special?"

Harry's smile was pure joy. "Yes. A special blend of you and me."

 **•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•**

 **Finite Incantatem.**

 **End Notes:**

First off, may I suggest you look up this story at AO3? I had to change the text very slightly to make up for some formatting issues as well as the fact that the pictures I used as scene breaks won't show up here.

Second, in case you're ever in London and want to retrace the excursion Harry proposed, you'd start in Greenwich at the Cutty Sark, now a museum on the bank of the Thames. From there, you board a Thames River Boat to St. Katharine's Pier near the Tower of London, cross Tower Bridge and take a thirty-minute walk along the river to the BramahTea and Coffee Museum in Southwark St., near London Bridge. (Unfortunately, it closed down permanently in 2006; to subsitute for the Bramah, why not take a turn around St. Katharine's Dock and have lunch at The Dickens Inn, a reconstructed 18th-century pub?) From there, it's another two-mile walk back across the Thames to an area near Charing Cross (and the Leaky Cauldron) to visit the original site of the Twinings Tea Company. The building has indeed stood in the same spot since 1706 and is now a tea shop. Of course the sales room has been adapted to modern times, but the place still retains a lot of its old charm.

Now it's less than a mile, or another twenty minutes on foot, to reach the Ritz Hotel in Piccadilly. Afternoon tea at The Palm Garden restaurant may be pricy, but is worth every penny.

As none of the sites/museums are very large, the tour can indeed been done in a day.

Lastly, the tea Draco made is actually my own creation, made after a shopping spree at Twinings. Unfortunately, the company no longer sells loose-leaf vanilla or orange tea … but substiutes can be found, and it's a delicious drink for a cold winter afternoon – with or without orange liqueur!


End file.
